What No One Can Know
by Paper Lilly Webs
Summary: -For anyone looking to cross a desert, a guide is in order, a native that knows the land. Dave and his troop can only trust Karkat isn't leading them into more danger, though it's clear Dave would trust him with anything.- That summary doesn't ft at all. T for super mild smut, Persian!Karkat, English Knight!Dave.


**A/N**: Um... I dunno what to put here. Persian Karkat and English Dave; While this wasn't inspired on the cover pic, I modeled Karkat after that.

Um... I'm super not motivated for anything right now, though I am working on another few DaveKat's at the moment, and will maybe have those finished soonish... I'll also be rewriting my DirkKat to be longer and less boring. *shrug* We shall see.

My first even remotely smutty-ish scene. My deepest apologies.

Thank you guys for all of your support; it really means a lot, almost so much you have no idea.

Seriously, thank you.

~Webs

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Words hushed without breath fall from whispered lips on flushed ears, never to be repeated outside the cloth door to the ten. Creamy skin on gold-brushed tan reflect the single lamplight left forgotten on the floor, sweat glistening as it runs down panting chests. Bright eyes blink at each other in the weak light, warm foreheads pressed together in the wake of need to be ever closer.

Heat-chapped lips tug upwards into mutual, overjoyed smiles, before pressing together repeatedly. When parted, the smiles return and encourage each other, until laughter leaves chests that brush up against each other in their mirth, sunkissed hands running over moonstone skin teasingly. Breathless chuckles fill the space between them in the silence of the camp, neither caring if they were caught.

After their euphoria fades and their pleasure's spent, they pull apart to allow a split second of desert air to pass between them before they roll over and press together again, thankful the heat of the day is slowly fading into the colder night.

The barest hints of sun escapes into the tent, already too far under the dunes to offer sufficient light to see, but heavy red eyes watch the lamp slowly run out of fuel, casting the body next to him into darker and darker shadows. Wandering fingers trace over chiseled muscle and pale scars, mapping the expanses of past battles. Lips tug into a frown as their fingers brush over a much newer wound, scabbed over and healing, but still visible and garish pink against normally ochre skin.

"No one should be able to touch you," the taller of the two murmurs, hooking a hand behind his companion's head and bringing it to his chest as his other arm wraps around him. "I wish you could just go back home."

Only understanding bits of the language foreign to him, the shorter raises himself up onto his elbow to look down at the pale-skinned blonde as he cards a hand into his hair. Both seem to relax at the ministrations, eyes closing for long moments in the dusky heat, bodies calming for the sake of the silence around them, and the need to assure themselves that they were there and alive and well. The darker of the two knows the other won't be satisfied, because he /can't/ return home, not until he's fulfilled his duty to guide these foreigners across the desert. Running into bandits and forming a bond with one of them complicated things, but both know neither will leave the other.

Outside, a stream hums in the distance, offering bubbly chatter to accompany hesitant, shaky words. "Dave... I fine. I don't want a go home." The broken English breaks the fragile calm of a few minutes ago, the blonde sitting up as well, glaring down at him.

"No, you're not, Karkat; you're not fine. And if it were up to me, I'd send you home right now." Karkat opens his mouth to respond, but Dave silences him with a kiss to his lips. "Just..." He sighs, pressing his forehead to his again. "I see how everyone looks at you; they don't trust you. I'm terrified something's going to happen and they're going to blame you; that I'm going to lose you." Karkat doesn't respond, just looking up at the blonde and trying to make sense of everything he'd said.

Even with the language barrier, even without the understanding between them, Karkat can read the emotions in his voice instead, getting enough meaning out of them to know to lean forward and wrap his arms around Dave, letting him hide his face in the Persian's chest. He hums a mindless tune, stroking the taller's hair, eyes once again on the fading lamplight. Dave just hugs him tightly, all but clinging to him. Karkat nuzzles his nose into Dave's hair, murmuring softly to him in Farsi.

Counting Karkat's breathing helps Dave calm himself, fingers rubbing gently across his lower back as if proving to himself that Karkat's still alright. The past few weeks have been hell for him, trying to keep his affections hidden, on top of trying everything to protect Karkat from harm, so even just the subtle beat of his heart helps remind him he hasn't failed. He can't imagine what it's like for Karkat, always knowing exactly what kind of danger he's leading the one he loves into, the danger he is always aware of, but can't turn back from.

As the calm returns to the tent and the camp, Karkat relaxes against the pillows, curled up with his nose pressed into Dave's hair. "I need keep watch," he mumbles forlornly, rubbing the pads of his fingers over Dave's toned shoulders, dipping into the contours and indents, causing a huff from Dave and a tightening of his grip on him.

"No, stay here. You never sleep, Karkat. It's not healthy. Tell someone else to take watch tonight. I feel safer with you here."

Karkat feels a twinge at this, a slight pang of fear and longing, but coupled with slight annoyance that Dave is using his incessant need to protect the blonde against him. He doesn't move for a while, though he really should be watching the camp, especially if the other troop members are already suspicious of him. Giving them any cause to doubt him further would endanger them all, especially Dave, Karkat knowing he'd be the one standing up for him. What if the others turned against them?

Not about to let this happen, Karkat presses a kiss to Dave's forehead, but starts to wriggle himself free of his embrace, much to Dave's chagrin. "Do you really have to go?" Karkat only nods and swings himself off the cot, using a rag from the bowl of water in the corner to clean himself up a bit before getting dressed. He takes one last look at Dave, coming over to kiss his forehead, before leaving the tent.

Out in the open air, he pulls his dusty cloaks tighter around himself as he makes his way over to the horses tethered to the date palm closest to the stream they've set up camp by, greeting each one with a kiss to the muzzle and a sugarcube he'd nicked from Dave. He spends a few minutes in the company of the horses, then makes his way to the center of the camp, sitting on the small rug placed there to wait out the dawn.

Wrapped in darkness and the blankets that still held hints of Karkat's warmth, Dave curls up with a muffled sigh, trying to keep in his body heat. He eventually drifts off to sleep, hand resting on the dip in the cot mattress Karkat's body made, the coarse cloth reminding him he still has something to protect.

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**A/N**: First letters to the paragraphs are the letters to the title, kind of like an Acrostic poem? I dunno, it just kind of happened.

Sorry for Runners readers for not updating; you guys didn't seem to like the latest chapter much, so it's been hard to keep going at it :/ I'll try and work on that soon.

Anyhoo, I'm in the middle of the sequel to this, and there should be four parts, if you guys like it. Sorry again for my inactivity recently, and thank you so much for your support :3 It really does mean a lot.

There's so many things wrong with this, so please please please tell me what I can fix or change to make it more readable D:

Ciao,

~Webs


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